


Not the brightest idea

by juancock6969



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Crying, Dubious Consent, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Geraskier, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Scenting, Sex Pollen, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Voice Kink, dubcon, geralt x jaskier - Freeform, jaskier is loud, sex potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juancock6969/pseuds/juancock6969
Summary: Jaskier unknowingly drinks a sex potion.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 78
Kudos: 2059





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Their dynamic is fun, and I really wanted to write Jaskier as a needy mess. Also, sex potion/pollen/whatever fics are just great. And I definitely have a thing for Geralt's voice.
> 
> Thus this fic was born. excuse any mistakes, I wrote it primarily for fun and not really for others consumption lol!
> 
> It has dub con because, well, sex potion!
> 
> enjoy

Jaskier was a lot of things. A musician, a poet, a lover, a storyteller, and others he could continue to list. But he had a few flaws; one of them being that he wasn’t very bright. Now, Jaskier wasn’t  _ dumb _ . He just didn’t think things through sometimes.

And this was one of those times. Yes, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to steal a potion from Yennefer’s satchel. Yes, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to leave it in his bag and forget about it. Yes, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drink it thinking it was water and only realizing it wasn’t after he’d gulped down every last drop. 

Jaskier sighed to cover up the groan of discomfort that slipped past his lips. He didn’t want Geralt thinking that he was tired, because they’d been traveling for less than an hour.

But alas, you can’t fool a Witcher.

“What's wrong,” Geralt asked, although it sounded more like an accusation.

“Wrong? Why, nothing is wrong at all, my friend!” Jaskier replied cheerfully, “Thank you so much for the concern, though. The ache in my feet is something I can handle, although a ride would be greatly ap-“ Jaskier trailer off when Geralt stopped Roach and slipped down from the saddle, walking up to Jaskier briskly. “Whoa, whoa,”

“You’re sweating like a horse,” Geralt narrowed his eyes and snatched the collar of Jaskier’s shirt, pulling him up close.

“Geralt!” Jaskier squeaked in indignation, struggling feebly, “oh, let go, you big oaf!”

Geralt ignored his complaints and inhaled deeply, tickling the side of Jaskier’s neck and making the hairs at the back of his neck stand. The subtle wooziness from earlier became waves of nausea, and the world was definitely starting to spin a little.

“‘M… Fine,” Jaskier mumbled. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

“You smell…” Geralt paused, as if looking for the right words. Or maybe the most offensive ones. “Dirty. Of magic. What did you do?”

Jaskier had to process the words for a second longer than usual, but eventually replied “I did nothing- nothing at all!” He swayed a bit, and Geralt caught him before he could slip to the floor, “You always assume, assume it’s my fault, when I…” The bard trailed off, his train of thought getting derailed as he felt a brief flash of relief. Chasing the feeling, he snuggled closer to Geralt, and sighed happily as the dizziness subsided slightly.

“What. Did. You. Do? Geralt growled, and ooh, his voice was  _ deep. _

Jaskier glanced up at him through heavy lids, hot and woozy and his brain wasn’t working quite right, but he knew one thing, “Mmhm, you’re voice is so nice,” Jaskier’s eyes trailed from the Witcher’s piercing gold eyes to his lips, and his jaw, and Jaskier suddenly felt so overwhelmed with  _ want _ . He’d always found Geralt attractive, because you’d be blind to not to, but had never had bothered trying to seduce him. The Witcher was difficult to figure out, and Jaskier didn't want to take any chances.

But at the moment? He could think of nothing better than pressing his lips against Geralt’s, tasting his skin-

“Jaskier!” Geralt snapped, “answer me.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jaskier pouted, “I just… I was thirsty, and I had this bottle, from… from the witch, the scary sexy one. Stole it… Maybe drank it.”

“You… Stole a potion from an extremely powerful mage, and then  _ drank it _ ?”

“Mmmaybe,” Jaskier purred, playing not-so-innocently with the buttons on Geralt’s black blouse. He pressed up closer to the Witcher, looking up at him pleadingly, “Geralt…”

“No,” Geralt hissed, pushing him away. Jaskier immediately cried out like a kicked puppy, the distance and lack of contact making him feel sick again. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier groaned, his voice dropping to almost a whisper, “ _ please… _ ”

Geralt’s face scrunched up, and he turned away, soft pink coloring his cheeks, “You drank an aphrodisiac. A sex potion. It should wear off by tomorrow. There was a brothel in that town we passed earlier. I’ll take you there.”

“No!” Jaskier exclaimed, the mere thought of walking making him feel even worse, “Geralt, Geralt, please, please just-“ He pressed up against him again, unabashedly rubbing his clothed erection against Geralt’s thigh. Instantly, he let out a breathy moan of relief, and couldn’t help grinding his hips once, twice-

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, “I… I can’t. You’re under a spell, you’re not thinking right,”

Jaskier almost didn’t hear him, his thoughts were mushy and muddled and all he could focus on was now  _ good  _ he felt, rutting against Geralt desperately. “I’m thinking just- just fine,” He gasped out, “I’m thinking about how good you feel, and how much I want you to touch me, and how much I want to suck your cock,” He smiled dreamily, reaching up to hook his arms behind Geralt’s head and lean in.

He hadn’t expected Geralt to react as enthusiastically as he did, but Jaskier sure as hell wasn't gonna complain. Geralt kissed him roughly, nipping at his lower lip and licking into his mouth hungrily like a starved animal. Jaskier found himself quickly overwhelmed, and soon they were on the ground, Jaskier pressed against the cool grass as Geralt trailed kisses along his jaw, his stubble scratching at Jaskier’s face and making him gasp and whimper.

The nausea was completely gone (actually, Jaskier had never felt better) and instead there was only bliss and pleasure.

“Gods, Geralt,” Jaskier gasped, writhing under the Witcher as he bit into his shoulder, sucking roughly in ways that were sure to leave dark marks on the bard's skin, “That’s so good, you’re so good, please touch me more, please-“

“Do you ever shut up?” Geralt growled, his voice deep and rich and right next to his ear, Making Jaskier moan and buck his hips up needily.

“I-I’ll shut up, if,” Jaskier whimpered as Geralt undressed him roughly, exposing more skin for him to bite and claim, “if you keep talking.”

Geralt paused and looked at him, raising a brow.

Jaskier flushed red, “Um, I-“ he gulped, “I really like your voice?”

Geralt stared at him, then sighed, “Fine. But you better shut up. Keep your mouth shut or i'll shove my cock down your throat.”

Jaskier bit his lips, whimpering quietly at the rush of heat that flooded his body. He really wouldn’t mind having his mouth fucked by Geralt, not at all, but at the moment he was desperately craving his own release. 

It was pretty damn difficult to stay silent. Jaskier kept stuttering out soft little gasps each time Geralt touched him, kissed him, making his way downward oh so slowly. Jaskier whined, bucking his hips up impatiently. It wasn’t enough, he needed  _ more _ . 

Geralt nipped at his skin and brought himself back up, glaring at Jaskier, “Stop twitching,” he rumbled, hands rubbing small circles on Jaskier’s hips. “You’re such a needy whore.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat, and his dick throbbed against his clothes. 

“You like that, don’t you? You dirty bastard,” Geralt continued, on his breath hot against his ear while his fingers were undoing the buttons of Jaskier’s trousers one by one, “I’ve not even touched you and yet you’re a moaning, panting mess.”

Jaskier bit his lip, stopping himself from blabbering on about how slow Geralt was being, and so rude! But he dared not make a peep, because each word the Witcher spoke was like a fan to the flame. His voice was delicious and deep and rough and- “oh,  _ Gods _ !” Jaskier groaned out, squirming from the pleasure. Geralt palmed at his crotch over the thin fabric of his underwear, and Jaskier couldn’t help but stutter and moan. “Please, please,” 

“You didn’t even last two minutes with your mouth shut,” Geralt accused him, tracing lazy lines over his crotch.

“Ah, please,” Jaskier cried, his hips twitching as his body chased the pleasure it craved so badly. “Please touch me, please!”

“I have to admit,” Geralt whispered, nibbling at the bard’s earlobe and slipping his hand under the cloth to wrap his hand around Jaskier’s length, “Your voice is much more bearable when all you do is beg.”

Jaskier moaned loudly, his cock heavy and dripping with precum against the witcher’s calloused hand. He reached up, blindly grabbing onto Geralt’s back and digging his nails in as he felt him moving his hand against his cock, jerking him off. It felt so good, and Jaskier nearly sobbed in relief, moaning so loud that he worried he would attract wandering travelers. They were right next to a road, after all. But those thoughts didn’t last long, because Jaskier was much more preoccupied by how nicely Geralt’s hand felt against his dick.

“You smell so good,” Geralt growled, his eyes dark and hungry, almost predatory. “I could eat you right up.”

“Fuck!” Jaskier cried out as he came, his hips stuttering while he spilled his seed all over Geralt’s hand. He arched his back and dug his fingernails into Geralt’s skin as the orgasm wracked through his body, leaving him breathing hard and heavy as if he’d just run a marathon. 

The relief he felt was absolutely wonderful, and felt almost as good as the orgasm itself. He basked in it for a few seconds, evening out his breathing and enjoying the moment of clarity. But it didn’t last long. His eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Gerald, who’s gaze was locked onto his. 

The overwhelming lust washed over Jaskier again, his dick twitching, already getting hard again. “F-fuck…” He laughed nervously, “How long does this last?”

“Well, you drank the entire thing, so…” Geralt licked his lips and Jaskier felt another pang of arousement. “six hours?”

“Shit,” Jaskier whispered, feeling his mind starting to go mushy again. “Well… Since I since didn’t manage to stay silent... I guess maybe you should shove your cock down my throat?”

Geralt’s lips twitched upward into a subtle smirk, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Jaskier barely had time to react before Geralt stood up, pulling his dick out of his pants and shoving it against Jaskier’s face, hitting him in the cheek.

“Ah- wait-“ Jaskier gulped, seizing up Geralt’s cock in front of him. He was big. Like. really big. Jaskier’s mouth watered and he wasted no time licking a slow stripe from base to tip, and mouthing at the head. Geralt growled and grabbed Jaskier’s hair, tugging and pushing, forcing his cock deeper into his mouth. Jaskier nearly gagged, but it felt so good, and he let himself be roughly fucked into, drool and precum starting to drip from his lips.

“You like sucking my cock, huh? Like getting your mouth fucked and used?” Geralt said roughly, his voice so deep that Jaskier couldn’t help but cry out muffled whines of pleasure. Geralt thrusted into his mouth, pushing Jaskier against him and coming with a string of curses and moans.

Jaskier gagged again, feeling the semen fill his throat, he pulled back hastily, coughing as strings of cum landed on his cheeks and dripped from his lips. That same feeling of satisfaction returned briefly, like water to cool a burn. He felt Geralt lower himself to the floor and Jaskier eagerly crawled on his lap, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and letting himself catch his breath. He nearly melted when Geralt started stroking his hair gently, oh so gently. 

He licked his lips, salty and wet and slightly swollen. Geralt paid notice to that, bringing his thumb up to gently rub at Jaskier’s puffy bottom lip. 

“Mmhm…” Geralt leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the bard’s sensitive lips, “Feeling better?”

Jaskier nodded dumbly, chasing Geralt’s mouth and slipping his tongue in, deepening the kiss, “Want.. M’re” He mumbled between desperate kisses. “Need…” 

“At a loss for words, Jaskier?” Geralt rumbled, “If I’d known this was all it took to shut you up, I would’ve done it much sooner.”

Jaskier whimpered, rocking his hips desperately, feeling the waves of lust wash over him once more. “You’re…. Wearing too much,” He complained, tugging at Geralt’s shirt. It was open and hanging on one side, so it didn’t take much for Jaskier to completely remove it. 

“So are you,” Geralt narrowed his eyes at him. Right, Jaskier was in a similar situation. His clothes were crumpled and undone, revealing a lot of skin while still hanging on. He grumbled and hurriedly took off his clothes, trying to stay as close to Geralt as possible. Once he finished throwing away all the clothes to the forest floor, he looked back to see Geralt had done the same.

“You’re so fucking attractive,” Jaskier whined, “How is every single part of you so perfect?” He snuggled closer, his body begging for more contact. He mouthed hungrily at the witcher’s neck, rocking his hips against his cock suggestively, which was somehow already getting hard again, “Please, please…”

Geralt tugged on his hair roughly, pulling him back, “Please what?” 

“Please- Geralt-” Jaskier panted, “I need you I need you- I need you  _ inside me _ .” 

“Oh?”

“Please,” Jaskier cried, “Just fuck me already! Please please fuck me,” He looked up at Geralt, desperate and horny, “Gods, I need to feel you I need to have your cock inside me I-”

“Do you have any oil?” Geralt asked, rolling his hips up slowly, rubbing his dick against Jaskier’s ass. Definitely hard. Damned Witcher stamina.

“Y-yes,” He stuttered, “In my bag.”

Geralt didn’t waste any time reaching over, with Jaskier still on his lap, and deftly plucking it out of the bag. He popped open the lid and smeared some on his fingers, rubbing between Jaskier’s cheeks and slipping a finger in. 

“Ah-” Jaskier gasped from the cold oil, blushing furiously as he felt Geralt go in deeper, stretching him out. He’d laid with men before, but it had been a while. Geralt added a second finger and Jaskier groaned, his dick throbbing, “Mmhm-more,  _ Geralt _ .”

“Be patient,” Geralt growled, “I’d rather not leave you unable to walk for two weeks.”

The thought of it made Jaskier’s dick twitch, “No, no, please, I need it so bad,” He rocked against Geralt’s fingers as if to prove his point, “Just fuck me, fuck me please, I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel you the entire m-month.”

Geralt growled again, but this time it was less restrained, more feral, and he hastily pulled his fingers out to rub the rest of the oil on his cock, lifting Jaskier’s hips so he could slowly slide in.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jaskier keened, feeling Geralt’s cock slowly fill him up, “Oh, shit, you’re so big, you’re so big inside me,” He gasped, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pleasure or the pain. When he finally bottomed out, he rested his head against Geralt’s shoulder, trying to get himself under control. It didn’t really work out, though, because Geralt started slowly thrusting his hips up.

Jaskier almost sobbed, “Oh,  _ gods _ ,” It felt so good.

“You okay?” Geralt rumbled, mouthing at his jaw.

Jaskier nodded, his breath hitching at every little touch, “J-just overwhelmed,” He whimpered, “it feels so good.”

“Good, because I’m going to fuck the life out of you.” Geralt snarled, twisting them around and pinning Jaskier to the floor, snapping his hips forward and fucking into him with a ruthless pace.

Jaskier screamed, not even caring if the entire forest could hear him. It was so good, too good, and the sharp pain was slowly receding and merging with the overwhelming pleasure. Geralt wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck the life out of him, because it sure felt like he was.

“Oh, SHIT! Right there, right there, again, please, oh fuck you’re so big,” Jaskier moaned, “Yes, yes, yes,” each thrust rubbed right against his prostate, sending zaps of pleasure all troughout his body, making him feel like he was on fire. 

“You’re gorgeous” Geralt murmured, running a hand down Jaskier’s chest, “you look so good while getting fucked.” He leaned down and Jaskier happily wrapped his arms around him, kissing him desperately and rather sloppily. “You’re a mess,” Geralt nosed at his neck, lapping softly at the dark bruises blooming on the skin, “So needy for my cock,” He snapped his hips and Jaskier sobbed, his dick jerking and leaking precum.

“Keep- Oh gods I’m going to come- keep talking, don’t stop, fuck,” Jaskier shut his eyes tightly, body trembling with pleasure.

“Come for me,” Geralt growled, “I want you to come for me, want to hear you cry out my name so loud that you ruin that pretty voice of yours,”

“Fuck!” Jaskier yelled, digging his nails in as he reached his orgasm, moaning and crying out Geralt’s name like a broken record until his throat went sore and his whole body went limp. Geralt hadn’t finished yet, though, and he continued to thrust into Jaskier, making him sob and whine. The overstimulation was too much, and his head was spinning.

He gasped weakly as Geralt came, burying his face in Jaskier’s shoulder and biting down as he filled him with cum.

They stayed there for a minute, hazed with lust and post-coital bliss. Jaskier blinked through heavy lids, moving his hand up to Geralt’s hair and stroking softly as he evened out his breathing. His head slowly cleared, and the ability to form coherent thoughts returned to him. The realizations of the events that had transpired hit him like a bull, and he blushed hot and red.

“Um- I-” He mumbled awkwardly, “S-sorry…”

Geralt only grumbled something in response, slipping out and settling himself next to Jaskier, who let go of the coarse white hair.

“How are you feeling?”

Jaskier tried to reply, but a choked wheeze came out instead. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again, “better. Much better. Still very horny, but… Not in a supernatural sort of way. It doesn’t hurt anymore” He sighed, “also pretty tired.”

The silence between them was tense and awkward, and Jaskier could still smell the sex in the air. And judging by the way Geralt wrinkled his nose every so often while tugging his pants on, it was probably much worse for him. 

The lack of contact was eventually too much for Jaskier, though, and he could feel nausea and a headache coming on. He rolled over and shuffled into his underwear, crawling closer to Geralt and curling up around him. He felt the witcher stiffen, then relax.

“Can you…” Jaskier bit his lip, “touch me? Not in a sexual way, just…”

Geralt grunted and brought his hand up to Jaskier’s head, running his fingers gently through his hair. It felt lovely, and Jaskier felt so warm and safe. Geralt undid the knots and brushed sweaty strands out of his face, with such care that Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat and his face grew warm.

He didn’t notice he’d fallen asleep until he blinked his eyes open blearily to find himself on the ground, alone. He blinked a couple times more, pushing himself upwards awkwardly.

“Geralt?” He rasped out. Oh dear, that wasn’t good. His throat hurt like a bitch, too. He glanced around, and noticed Roach tied to a nearby tree. But Geralt was nowhere to be seen. Jaskier groaned, shame washing over him. “What the fuck did I  _ do _ ?” He had sex with Geralt. Full-blow, dick in ass, sex. He blushed just thinking about it, and all the embarrassing things he said and did, “oh, gods, he must hate me now.”

Jaskier sat up, his whole body aching. His ass was sticky and he could feel semi-dried cum leaking slowly and dripping down his thighs. He tried to stand, but his legs were shaky and his hips hurt like a bitch, not to mention his ass. He groaned and blinked down at himself. He was a mess. He had bruises everywhere, from soft pink on the inside of his thighs to dark purple on his neck and hips. He had various hickeys and bite marks that Geralt had left behind, as well as the remnants of the harsh grip he’d had on Jaskier’s hip. He traced a finger softly over the reddish purple marks, clearly those of fingers digging into his skin.

He was thoroughly fucked out. 

“Hm, you’re awake.”

Jaskier yelped, turning around in surprise to see Geralt, walking towards him with lumber in his arms, “We’ll be camping here tonight.”

“But we have to keep moving,” Jaskier argued, guilt prickling at his skin, “I’ve already delayed this journey enough-” He tried to stand, he really did, but his knees buckled halfway up and sharp pain ran through his entire body. Luckily, Geralt caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Be careful,” He muttered angrily, “you’re in no shape to be walking around.”

“I could ride on roach?” Jaskier mumbled, shoulders slumping as Geralt set him down.

The witcher shook his head, “even worse.”

Right. Horses were a rather bumpy form of transportation, and Jaskier’s ass was hurting enough already. “Okay… ‘M sorry.” He sighed.

Geralt grunted in response, and Jaskier took it as ‘apology kinda accepted’. He sat there awkwardly, buttoning up his pants and slipping his slightly tattered shirt on while Geralt worked on getting a small fire going, further from the clearing in the road and a little deeper into the forest. 

Jaskier felt useless, and awkward, and guilty, and dirty. He stared at the sky, watching it go from blue to pink and orange. His stomach churned, and he couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or the mix of nasty emotions he was experiencing. He’d done something stupid, and it had ended up with…. Well, he wasn’t about to complain about the experience, but he was sure Geralt wasn’t at all happy with him. Their friendship was fragile enough, and Jaskier was horrified at the thought of having ruined it all.

Eventually, and with the help of the nearby trees, Jaskier managed to stand and shuffle/stumble towards the campfire Geralt had started. The warmth was very welcome, and he sighed in relief, stretching his hands out to let the heat lick at his palms.

Geralt sat on the opposite site of the fire, a good five feet away, and they just kind of stayed there, the silence heavy between them. Geralt had never been much of a talker, so Jaskier usually filled the silence, but now… Not only was his throat all messed up, he just didn’t feel like saying anything, for the first time in his life.

But surprisingly, Geralt spoke up instead.

“Jaskier…”

He couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks, or the arousal that came with it. Geralt saying his name- hell, Geralt saying anything, had been ruined for him forever. That sexy, deep as fuck voice was a huge turn-on now more than ever. 

Jaskier gulped nervously, “Yes, Geralt?” he cringed at the sound of his voice. He doubted he’d have much to talk with the next morning. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier’s head shot up, looking at Geralt in surprise. He’d expected a lot of things, but an apology wasn’t one of them. “I went too far. I didn’t mean to… Take advantage of you like that.”

Jaskier’s mouth dropped open, “ _ you’re _ sorry? Geralt- you have nothing to apologize for!” He flailed his arms around wildly, “ _ I _ stole the stupid potion.  _ I _ drank it. I was the one begging for-” He cleared his throat, “you did nothing but indulge me. You didn’t take advantage of me!”

“Didn’t I?” Geralt snapped, meeting Jaskier’s eyes. The piercing gold was as stunning as it had always been, “Jaskier, you were under a love potion. You weren’t acting on your own accord-”

“Like hell I wasn’t!” Jaskier shot back, “Okay, yeah, I was very much under the influence of the potion, but I wasn’t about to fuck the first person I came across! I just…” He groaned, burying his face in his hands, “You’re attractive, okay? Really attractive. Like, seriously. And you were right  _ there _ , and you felt really good, and…” He bit his lip, “Even if I’d had the choice of fucking someone else, I would’ve chosen you.”

Geralt blinked a couple of times, staring at Jaskier with an unreadable expression.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jaskier groaned, “just, listen. Did you-” He waved his hands around awkwardly, “Are you okay with what happened?” He stared at the ground, voice wavering slightly, “you didn’t do anything you didn’t want to, right? I didn’t…”

“No,” Geralt muttered, shaking his head.

“Then…” Jaskier mumbled, “then we’re good, yeah? Let’s just forget it all happened.”

“Fine.”

Jaskier didn’t know why, but Geralt’s answer made his heart ache, "Fine."


	2. Chapter two babey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck and make up? I guess? No sex pollen involved this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day! here's a lil treat for all of y'all ! I originally wasn't gonna make a second chapter, but you guys really liked my fic! So for the people that wanted a follow-up, and all the lovely comments, this is for you *blows kiss at the sky*
> 
> disclaimer; no beta, barely proofread, I wrote most of this in one sitting at 11 pm, so please excuse any mistakes lol!

Usually, Geralt was incredibly grateful for rare moments of silence on his journeys with Jaskier. The bard was loud and extremely talkative, able to maintain hour-long conversations by himself with little to no input from Geralt’s part.

But since the morning, Jaskier had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Geralt kept glancing back to see the bard trudging along behind him and roach, eyes either on the dirt road or the slowly setting sun in the distance. 

He’d hum every so often, strum a cord or two, but nothing more than that. Geralt didn’t like it. As much as he hated the noise, the silence, he realized, was even worse. He’d gotten used to the bard’s crappy jingles and dramatic stories, the constant of his voice. 

Geralt also didn’t like stabbing guilt that curled around his gut that worsened each time he’d glance back to look at Jaskier. They’d both apologized and cleared up the misunderstandings between them, but that didn’t make Geralt feel any better. The bard’s throat was bruised and sore, marked with Geralt’s teeth and tongue. 

He knew the reason for Jaskier’s silence was him, and it felt awful.

“There’s a small town nearby,” Geralt spoke up, “we can get a meal and lodging for the night. Maybe some quick coin.”

Jaskier frowned, “Isn’t-” he cleared his throat and tried again, “Isn’t the nearest town out of the way? We’d be taking a detour.”

“It’s not exactly on the way, no,” Geralt admitted. If he’d been on his own he wouldn’t have bothered to go out of his way for a bed to sleep in, but Jaskier looked exhausted, and the guilt curling tighter around his stomach. “Roach needs to rest.”

Jaskier blinked, “Right. Okay.” His voice was hoarse and quiet, barely above a whisper, and Geralt had to bite back an apology.

The silence between them settled back in on their way to the town, with only the soft footsteps of Jaskier and the heavy clops of Roach’s hooves to fill the space.

It was a seedy town, small and with a few muddy roads connecting the houses. Geralt noticed some drunk men stumble out of a building, and he lead Roach over to what was hopefully an inn. 

The inside was just as bad as the outside. The floors and walls were dirty and grimy, with the nasty smell of drink and dirt clinging to the musky air, making Geralt’s nose twitch in disgust. He walked over to the bar and waved over the bartender.

“I need two rooms and a stable,” Geralt said, slapping down a handful of coins.

The bartender, a plump middle aged lady with curly hair, raised her brow in disapproval, “please?”

“... Please,” Geralt grumbled through gritted teeth.

She gave him a big smile, showcasing her two missing front teeth, “That’s a good boy.” She pocketed the coin and turned back around to continue pouring drinks, “Your mare will be cared for. But there’s only one room available. The bed is big enough for two, it will do.”

Jaskier made a squeaking sound of concern that sounded like a cat being strangled, and Geralt groaned, “I’ll pay to empty a room.”

“No can do, darling,” She hummed, handing out an ale, “One room, take it or leave it.”

“Fine.” Geralt would just have to sleep on the floor, then. 

The room was surprisingly clean, with no nasty smell lingering in the air besides the faint scent of wood and dust. The bed was made and there even was a bucket and a tub to wash off in. 

“You can take the bed,” Geralt grunted, undoing his various straps and buckles to free himself from his heavy leather armor.

Jaskier frowned, “And you?”

“The floor,” Geralt shrugged off the breastplate and sighed in relief, rolling his stiff shoulders.

“You can’t sleep on the floor!” Jaskier argued, “you paid for the room, if anyone should have the bed it’s you.”

Geralt glanced back at the bard, who was kneeling on the bed and looking at Geralt like a distressed pup.

“I’ve slept in worse places,” Geralt tried to assure him, “it’s fine. Just rest.”

Jaskier crossed his arms over his chest, and plopped down on the floor, “No! If you’re not gonna sleep on the bed, then neither will I.”

Geralt blinked, “are you serious right now?” Jaskier didn’t budge. Geralt sighed and rubbed at the space between his brows, “Fine, we’ll both sleep on the bed. Happy?”

Jaskier’s eyes widened, “Um, what?”

Geralt kicked off his boots and crawled onto the bedstead, the wood frame creaking under his weight. The mattress was stiff and the furs were dirty, but it was much better than what Geralt expected. The room was well worth the coin.

He turned to Jaskier, who was still sitting awkwardly on the floor, “Well? Get up here.”

“Um,” Jaskier awkwardly scrambled up, undoing the laces on his doublet and shrugging it off. “Thank you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, resting his head on the soft pillows. He felt the bed dip and groan as Jaskier settled down next to him. His scent was familiar and annoyingly relaxing, fresh and sweet like grape wine and mint leaf. Geralt listened to Jaskier’s soft breathing, hearing his heartbeat slow as he fell asleep. The witcher usually had trouble sleeping, but the bard’s rhythmic heartbeat eventually lulled him to sleep.

* * *

Geralt woke up to the smell of wine and mint, and he blinked wearily, taking account of his surroundings as his body shook off the drowsiness. He was curled around a warm body, his nose pressed against the back of someone’s neck.  _ Jaskier _ . Geralt took in a shaky breath, feeling his head swim as he inhaled the bard’s sickly sweet scent. It reminded him of rich grape pastries, the ones served at fine dinners, full of sugar and cream.

He wanted to snuggle closer, wrap his arms around Jaskier’s waist and press soft kisses to his bruised skin. 

They’d both promised to forgive and forget and move on from the previous events, but it was rather difficult when Jaskier smelled so fucking good, and he was pressed flush against Geralt’s body, hip slotted against his own. He tried to move away, but noticed his arm was pinned under Jaskier’s body.

He sighed, “Jaskier, wake up.”

The bard mumbled something unintelligible, snuggling further into the covers.

“Jaskier,” Geralt poked his back, “get the hell off me.”

“Mhmm,” Jaskier grumbled, “S’ not even light yet, Geralt, and I’m warm.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and shoved at Jaskier’s back, “At least get off me.” 

“Hm? Oh!” Jaskier seemed to realize their closeness and quickly scrambled up, moving away a tad too fast and tumbling over the edge of the bed. “Ow, shit!”

Geralt peered over the edge in concern, “You alright?”

Jaskier was sprawled ungracefully across the floor, his shirt riding up to reveal his torso, and Geralt couldn’t help raking his eyes down the bard’s body, stopping where Jaskier’s happy trail met his underwear. He forced his gaze away shamefully, heat rising to his cheeks.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier groaned, defeated, “not the best way to greet the day, though.”

“I’m gonna bathe,” Geralt said, getting off the bed and rolling his shoulders to try and alleviate his sore muscles.

“Wait, I need to bathe too,” Jaskier piped up from the floor, “d’you think they could heat up some water for us?”

“Doubt that.” Geralt muttered, walking towards the somewhat secluded room with a tub and bucket of water.

Jaskier, who had at some point gotten up and was now peering at the tub over Geralt’s shoulder, made a face of disgust, “That water looks cold and old.”

Geralt kind of missed the bard’s angsty silence, “what were you expecting?”

Jaskier looked miffed, “I am  _ not _ cleaning off with that. Let me go get some hot water-”

“I truly couldn’t give less of a shit,” Geralt sighed.

“A hot bath would do us both good,” Jaskier argued, “and would do a better job of getting you clean.”

Knowing that the conversation was going nowhere, Geralt sat back down on the bed as Jaskier waddled off with the bucket, water swaying and spilling with each step.

He returned with a triumphant grin and Geralt rolled his eyes at the bard’s enthusiasm. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Jaskier set the large bucket down, hot steam rising from the water, “Help me fill the tub.”

Geralt raised a brow, “Why?"

“Because we’re going to bathe…?”

“Together?”

Flush slowly rose to the bard’s face, coloring his cheeks a peachy pink hue that looked quite dashing. He stuttered awkwardly, waving his hands in the air as if to convince Geralt of his innocence.

“No, well, yes, I mean, I had that in mind, the water isn’t enough for-” He stared at the floor, flustered, “I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade you privacy-”

Geralt jerked back, “What? No, No, I didn’t mean it like that.” He pursed his lips, “Jaskier.” The bard glanced up at him awkwardly, and whatever words Geralt was about to say died in his throat. He hesitated, then swiftly picked up the bucket and poured the steaming water in, the small room heating up quickly around them. The tub was big enough for both of them to fit comfortably, but in very close quarters. Geralt didn’t really know how they were going to arrange themselves, but by that point, it was Jaskier’s problem.

He stripped and stepped in, the water deliciously hot, and he sunk down with a satisfied groan. Okay, yeah, maybe a hot bath was a good idea after all. Geralt rested his head back against the edge, closing his eyes and letting himself relax for once, lowering his guard, shoulders dropping in relief. He felt the water ripple and rise as Jaskier stepped in, maneuvering around Geralt to sit across from him. 

A sweet smell of olive oil and grape filled the air, and Geralt lifted his head up to see Jaskier humming softly to himself and rubbing a bar of soap across his skin, dark purple in color.

“That smells expensive,” Geralt mused.

Jaskier looked up in surprise, “oh, this?” He held out the soap for Geralt to inspect, “your nose would be right, my friend. I am a man who enjoys the finer things in life, and the small pleasures one achieves with hygene.”

“Hmm.”

“You would say that,” Jaskier sighs, “you like in dirt and gore. Come here,” he wriggled forward, beckoning Geralt closer. “If the soap isn’t to your liking, I’ve got some lovely oils and bath salts-”

“I’m good.”

“Absolutely not,” Jaskier huffed, “you reek of death and decay every day! Isn’t it nice to be clean?”

Geralt shrugged, but didn’t stop Jaskier from plucking up a small jar from the ground and pouring some earthy looking salt into the warm water. It smelled like lavender and the sea and made the water feel soft and velvety around him.

“Turn around, I’ve got this amazing sandalwood oil that smells divine and it will clean all that muck right off.”

Geralt did as told, not really caring by that point, because the water was warm, and it felt nice to really relax for once in his life. Jaskier started rubbing the oil against his neck and shoulders, scratching the dried mud out of his hair and caked blood on his skin. His hands were small and deft, with calloused fingers and soft palms. They rubbed the oil expertly onto Geralt’s skin, the soft and milky scent of wood surrounding him. It was pleasant, and Geralt couldn’t help but sigh as Jaskier’s hands started kneading his sore muscles, working from his shoulders and slowly making their way down his back.

“Last time you did this, you used chamomile oil,” Geralt murmured, leaning back into Jaskier’s touch, groaning as the bard rubbed at the knots in his shoulders. Damn, he was good. Geralt rumbled low in his chest, leaning back against Jaskier and murmuring soft praises. He was too relaxed, too focused on the scents of wood and lavender and wine, and the hands kneading into his rough skin, he almost didn’t notice the scent of arousal heavy in the air.

Geralt’s eyes flew open as his brain processed the scent, cheerfully reminding him of the last time he’d smelled Jaskier’s arousal, after he’d drank the potion. But this time, it wasn’t laced with that dirty smell of magic and irresistible need, it was all Jaskier.

Geralt growled, cock twitching as his body reacted to the scent of arousal flooding his senses, animalistic and primal in all the ways Witchers were supposed to be. He turned around, water spilling over the edges as he crowded over Jaskier and raked his eyes down the bard’s naked body. His face was flushed, pink dusting his cheeks and bringing out his blue eyes, which were heavy with lust, the pupils blown out. The soapy water did little to hide the bard’s erection.

“Geralt!” Jaskier squeaked, clearly taken by surprise, “I- um-”

Geralt didn’t wait for him to finish, instead leaning forward, dipping his head to brush his cheek against Jaskier’s neck and press his nose to the bard’s jaw, breathing in the smell of fresh grapes and sugar and the finest of wines. He mouthed at Jaskier’s skin, tasting the salt on his skin, how good it felt to feel the bard’s pulse under his tongue.

Jaskier squirmed under his touch, throwing his head back and moaning quietly, “c-careful with the bruises,” he whimpered, trembling as Geralt grabbed his hip, dragging him closer.

“I’ll be gentle,” Geralt murmured against his ear, peppering the bard’s sensitive skin with light kisses, making his way towards Jaskier’s mouth. “Whatever you want, I’ll give.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched, “Fuck,”, and he grabbed Geralt’s face, roughly bringing their mouths together for a deep kiss.

Geralt promised to be gentle. So he controlled his urges to crowd in closer, dig his fingers into the bard’s soft skin, bite at his lips until they bled, fuck him until he broke. He kissed Jaskier tenderly, slowly, taking his time to map out the inside of his mouth with his tongue, eating up every lewd sound Jaskier moaned out.

He broke the kiss and moved his hand further down, caressing Jaskier’s inner thigh with his thumb. Whatever expensive bath salt he’d poured in made his skin feel extremely soft and supple. “What do you want?” 

Jaskier blushed a deeper shade of red, “I- um- this is a lot more difficult when I’m not hyped up on love juice-” he took a shaky breath, “touch me?”

Geralt inched his hand the tiniest bit closer to Jaskier’s dick, “I already am.”

“No- not like that!” Jaskier whined, “I mean, don’t stop- but- augh! You know what I mean!”

Geralt bit back a smirk, “I want to hear you say it.”

Jaskier’s lips parted in surprise, a soft ‘oh’ escaping him, “I… I want you to fuck me,” he whispered, “I want to feel you inside me like before, and I want you to touch me, and kiss me, and...” He broke off, too embarrassed to continue.

Geralt rumbled in approval, dipping his head to kiss at Jaskier’s neck, wrapping his hand around his dick, jerking him off slowly, grabbing his hip with his other hand to keep Jaskier still as he moaned and squirmed beneath him.

“Geralt…” Jaskier whined, running his hands through his hair and tugging insistently. 

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, bringing his hands down to tug Jaskier up out of the water, pressing him against the wall in one swift movement. The bard yelped as his skin touched the cold stone and he blushed, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around Geralt so he didn’t slip back down.

Geralt coated his fingers in the nearest open bottle of oil, wasting no time brushing them against Jaskier and pressing them in, making the bard moan obscenely. 

“Ah,” Jaskier cried, cock twitching between his legs and dripping precum all over Geralt’s stomach, “oh, Gods, I want your dick in me so bad.”

Geralt hummed, sliding his fingers in deeper, “Patience, Jaskier.” He took his fingers out to coat them in more oil, and Jaskier whimpered at the loss, wriggling his hips impatiently. Geralt coated his dick in the slippery oil, then rubbed at the entrance, sliding three fingers in and out of Jaskier, making sure he was prepped and Geralt wouldn’t hurt him.

Jaskier twitched with every touch, every kiss, biting his lip and averting his eyes whenever Geralt spoke, pupils blown wide and long lashes hiding the pretty blue irises that reminded Geralt of streams in spring time and skies in summer. He aligned himself and distracted Jaskier with gentle kisses to his chest, nipping at the skin and slowly lowering the bard onto him.

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasped, grabbing and tugging and scratching as Geralt eased his way in, “you’re too big!” 

“Shh,” Geralt soothed him, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s and kissing him deeply, “It’s okay, you’re okay, look at how well you take me baby.”

That seemed to distract Jaskier from the pain, as his eyes shot open and he stared at Geralt with a dumbfounded expression, “baby?” he asked breathlessly.

Geralt purred, feeling the base of his cock slide into Jaskier, tight and hot around him, “You like that? Want me to call you pretty names, Jaskier?” He smirked as Jaskier nodded eagerly, face flushed pink.

Geralt started moving his hips casually, mouthing at Jaskier’s neck and showering him with praises in a husky whisper, “You feel so good around me, angel, look so pretty pressed up against the wall.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier moaned, grinding back against him with equal enthusiasm, meeting Geralt’s shallow thrusts. “More, harder.”

“Relax,” Geralt shushed him, tightening his grip on Jaskier’s hips to slow down his jerky movements, “I’ve got you, baby, don’t rush it.” He brought them back to a consistent rhythm, going deeper with each gentle thrust, “Enjoy it, gorgeous, let me fuck you nice and slow.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched, and Geralt saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat, “O-okay,” he whispered, relaxing his grip on the witcher and going pliant in his grasp, letting Geralt take full control, burying himself deep and thrusting languidly against him, kneading Jaskier’s ass like one would fondle fresh soft bread.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” Jaskier cried, “Don’t stop.”

“You gonna come, baby?” Geralt growled, “gonna come just from bouncing on my cock?”

“Fuck, yes,” Jaskier panted, “Gods, you’re so big, I need you to come in me, I wanna be full of you.”

Geralt couldn’t help the animalistic snarl that tumbled past his lips, grabbing Jaskier’s hips roughly to fuck into him deeper, heat pooling in his stomach. He bit Jaskier’s shoulder, canines digging into the bard’s soft skin and threatening to draw blood as Geralt was enveloped in Jaskier’s sweet scent, spiked with arousal and his nearing orgasm, and the smell was so strong Geralt could basically taste it on his tongue, like saccharine wine. 

“You’re delicious,” Geralt murmured, “I’m gonna come inside you and mark you up so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“You don’t need to,” Jaskier mumbled, staring at him with such tender longing it made Geralt’s heart skip a beat, “I’m already yours.”

Geralt groaned, burying himself in Jaskier’s ass and seeing stars as his orgasm hit him, waves of pleasure making him dizzy. Jaskier came seconds after, sobbing and mumbling and holding on tightly onto Geralt as if he was scared he would just disappear if he let go. 

Geralt gently lowered Jaskier back down into the (now cold) water, slipping out and adjusting himself so he was leaning against the side with Jaskier pressed against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. Geralt gently brushed wet strands away from Jaskier’s face, brushing back his hair and analyzing the blooming bruises on his skin. It wasn’t as bad as their first time, in which Geralt had pretty much tried to eat the bard’s neck, leaving him with a rainbow of hickeys and bites.

“Geralt,” Jaskier spoke up, his voice small and tentative, “What… What are we?” 

Geralt hesitated, his hand frozen over Jaskier’s hair, “I… We… I don’t know.” He muttered, resuming his soft caresses, “We’re friends.”

Jaskier turned his head to look at him, “Just… Friends?”

“No, I guess not,” Geralt replied, “Maybe something more.”

Jaskier was silent for a moment, and then, “What you said…” he blushed, “About.. Me being yours… What did you mean by that?”

“You’re mine,” Geralt murmured, running his hand down Jaskier’s cheek and tipping his head up by the chin to give him a chaste kiss, “you’re my friend, my travel companion, my lovely little songbird that sings dramatic tales of my conquests.”

Jaskier grinned against Geralt’s lips, “And you?”

“I don’t mind being yours,” Geralt replied, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. He pressed a quick kiss to Jaskier’s forehead, “the water’s gone cold.”

“Mmhm,” Jaskier mumbled, “let’s just stay here for a second.”

Geralt smiled, letting Jaskier snuggle up on his side, “alright.”   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it lived up to expectations lol! Their relationship isn't explicitly stated, cause y'all can think of them as whatever you want. friends with benefits? sure! lovers? sure! fuckbuddies? sure! whatever!

**Author's Note:**

> that's all folks! this is just porn without plot, but y'all can imagine whatever happens next, interpret things however you want. i just wrote this for fun and decided to share, i hope it was a good read!
> 
> excuse any typos or plot holes, pls
> 
> EDIT: made a part two due to so much support! It makes me really happy that so many people enjoyed this fic! I don't draw a lot of geraskier, but either way my social media is @space_lyft !


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